Missed Ya, Soda
by cooroo
Summary: After his brother is sent to Vietnam and declared missing in action, Pony doesn't know what to do apart from accept the fact that Soda's gone. He's about to learn just how wrong he can be...


**Well, this is my first ever Outsiders fanfiction. Hope you all enjoy it!**

I knew the moment I woke up on the twelfth of August 1969 that the day was going to be different.

At first, I didn't know what it was. Then I realised that Darry wasn't hollering at me to wake up, something he does nearly every morning. Well, it _was_ Saturday – maybe he decided to have a lie-in, though Darry isn't a stay-in-bed kind of person. But it wasn't just that, I realised. Everything _felt _different, but in a good way, a happy way.

Almost the same way it felt before Soda left.

I shook my head, trying to clear away the thoughts of my brother. I hadn't thought about him since the phone call. It hurt too much.

I reluctantly climbed out of bed and went for a quick shower. When I was done, I dressed and went into the kitchen to cook breakfast. As I opened the icebox to take out some eggs, I idly noticed we were out of milk, but that thought didn't keep me occupied for very long. The house was suspiciously quiet and I glanced around. It _really_ wasn't like Darry to still be asleep at ten in the morning, but I shrugged it off. It would do him good to sleep late for once. He'd been working himself half to death ever since Soda...

Soda...

Everything had been so normal the morning the letter had arrived. He and Steve had been wrestling while eating chocolate cake. I didn't even want to _think_ about the resulting mess.

Then I went out to fetch the post.

Everything changed with that one piece of paper.

But I don't think about that anymore. I _won't_ let myself think about it. It just hurts too much. At least before the phone call, though, I had known he would be home soon, safe.

Then everything went to hell.

The smell of burning suddenly pulled me from my thoughts. I looked down at my eggs in dismay. I really have to remember to concentrate when I cook, and also to stop thinking about Soda. Darry says I never think. To me, it seems that there are times when I think too much. Especially about Soda.

I cooked a second batch of eggs and placed them on toast, then wondered whether or not I should wake Darry. It seemed a pity to wake him, especially since I knew he hadn't been sleeping so well lately, but there was also no point in making him breakfast if he wasn't going to eat it.

I eventually slipped silently into his dark bedroom, figuring that if he looked like he was sleeping real soundly, I'd leave him alone. I glanced around the room. It had been ages since I had last been in Darry's room. Nothing had really changed all that much. His desk still had a picture of me, him, and Soda on it, along with papers. The papers had changed, though. A few years ago they had been homework, then college applications, but now they were bills.

I crept over to his bed. A picture of Mom and Dad was placed on his bedside table. His copy of _The Carpterbaggers _rested beside it. I shuddered at the memory of reading those pages.

I looked at the bed. It was messy – which was odd. Even if no one else in the family, apart from Mom, did, Darry always made his bed – and had obviously been slept in, but he was nowhere to be seen. I frowned and left the room. I checked to see if the bathroom door was open, which it was, and then looked out at the porch. He wasn't there either.

Where could he be? He only worked afternoons on Saturday and he wouldn't have left without telling me first. Darry was at home_ every_ Saturday morning.

So where the heck was he?

I sat down with my breakfast of eggs, toast, and cake and tried to read. I couldn't concentrate, though. The house was too quiet, too still. I was used to having Two-Bit here, cracking jokes, and Darry getting ready for work. Steve should be watching television or listening to the radio or both on the loudest volume there is.

Where _was_ everybody?

Suddenly a thought hit me and I sat up straight. What if Darry had woken up early, realised we were out of milk, and gone down to the store to buy some? What if something had happened? What if he had been in a car accident?

I swallowed hard, cursing my imagination. Darry would be fine, I knew that. He _had_ to be fine.

I couldn't lose another family member, especially not the last one I had left.

Losing Mom and Dad had been awful, but the three of us had been doing all right. Then Soda was recruited to Vietnam and it was just Darry and I. We missed Soda something awful, but we comforted ourselves with the thought of him being home soon.

Then we got the phone call. That horrible phone call which told us that my brother had gone missing in action.

Nothing had been the same after that. I had cried myself to sleep every night, and my nightmares had come back with a vengeance. I tried not to wake Darry – I knew he wasn't sleeping so well either.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Darry would be ok, I knew he would. I was just overreacting. He would've just run down to the store.

Yeah, that thought had been the result of an overactive imagination... and the fact that I knew I would never cope with losing another brother.

I slowly finished my breakfast and did the dishes. As I was drying my hands on my jeans, I heard a car pull up outside. I paused, listening as car doors slammed and people started talking at the top of their voices. Our front door opened loudly and then slammed.

"Pony?" That was Darry calling. "Pony, you up?"

"Yeah, in here," I shouted back. Turning around to walk into the lounge, I was about to start whistling, but the whistle died on my lips as I saw who was standing in the kitchen doorway.

I blinked. I blinked again, not trusting what my eyes were telling me.

"Hiya, Pony," Soda greeted me, his trademark grin on his face.

"Soda!" I screamed, and flung myself across the room onto him.

He hugged me back tight, laughing as he swung me around. I clung tightly to him, not believing it, not believing that my big brother, who I thought had died, was here, at home, safe, with his arms around me.

Finally he let go of me and held me at arm's length. "Damn, you've grown taller, kid. Any girls lining up at the door yet?"

I gaped at him. "I haven't seen you for a year, Soda, and all you can say is I've gotten taller? And ask if I'm getting any girls?"

He tugged my hair affectionately, laughing again. I looked at Darry, who was watching this scene with a smile on his lips. He looked a lot happier than I had seen him for a long time.

"Where were you this morning, Darry?" I asked, glancing at Soda as I did so. It felt so surreal, having him home, that I was afraid he'd disappear if I looked away too long.

"Picking this guy up," he replied, whacking Soda over the head as he walked towards the icebox.

"And you didn't tell me?"

He turned back to look at me and said, his tone slightly apologetic, "I got a call this morning saying that Soda was gonna be at the bus stop in half an hour. I stopped by your room, Pony, but you were out like a light, and I know you haven't been sleeping so well lately. Steve was on our couch, so he came along, but I didn't have the heart to wake you." t

For the first time, I noticed that Steve was standing behind Soda, leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. "Hey, Steve."

He gave me a brief, silent nod. We still weren't the best of friends – we never would be – but I put up with him and he tolerated me.

I focused back on Soda. I still couldn't believe he was home. I looked at him, _really_ looked at him for the first time since he arrived. His eyes, though they were dancing as much as ever, were now slightly shadowed, and he looked a little older, a little more mature, but he was still my brother, Sodapop Patrick Curtis.

"Missed ya, Soda."

"Missed ya too, kid."

And he was home.

**So, what did you all think? This is the first thing I've finished for a long time, and I'd appreciate any feedback on it. I mainly wrote it because I really felt like reading a fanfiction where Soda goes to Vietnam, but comes back safe and sound. If you know of any well-written stories like that, please share them with me! Also, I'm thinking of writing a longer, slightly different version of this. What do you guys think?**

**And yes, I know Soda's supposed to die in Vietnam. However, it wasn't in the book and I refuse to believe it :)**

**cooroo**


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